


Anders Mitchell or John Johnson

by orphan_account



Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 17:34:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/826950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’d never marry you.”</p>
<p>“Why the fuck not?”</p>
<p>“Because John Johnson.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anders Mitchell or John Johnson

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by these two gorgeous gifsets by the absolutely flawless fili-prince-under-the-mountain. [Here](http://fili-prince-under-the-mountain.tumblr.com/post/50918063309/john-johnson-or-bond-villain) and [here](http://fili-prince-under-the-mountain.tumblr.com/post/51245066628/john-johnson-and-his-bond-villain-part-2)

“Oh, there he is. My little husband.” Mitchell turned from washing the dishes.

“I’d never marry you,” he replied laughingly.

“Why the fuck not?” he replied more defensively than he or Mitchell expected. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it, smirking instead.

“Because John Johnson.” The amusement was clear in his voice, and Anders mulled it over in his head for a minute.

“Anders Mitchell.”

He could see Mitchell thinking about it before replying, “Sounds like a Bond villain.”

“Good point.” Mitchell only shrugged at that and turned back to finish the dishes.

Still, an idea had been planted, and Anders didn’t know why John’s immediate refusal, even though he said it jokingly, bothered him so much. He shook it off and went back, or at least tried, to whatever he was doing before.

*~OoO~*

It became something of a joke between them, and Anders didn’t want to think about how hearing Anders Mitchell or John Johnson sent a pleased hum through him. He didn’t want to think about how often his eyes had strayed to rings, how he found himself wondering if the legends about silver and vampires were true and if he should go with gold instead. He wondered if gold would even look good on Mitchell.

Then he reminded himself that he was not proposing to Mitchell and did his best to tear his thoughts away.

Still, whenever he came close to letting that thought go Mitchell would do something like mutter “Hello, Anders Mitchell,” as he sidled past him, pressing a kiss to his cheek so disgustingly sweet Anders wondered where his balls went and if Anders could ever get them back, or he’d jokingly correct his brothers that “It’s John Johnson now,” whenever they called him Mitchell with a teasing smirk at their shocked faces.

Mitchell and Anders got similar thrills in making Mike cringe.

The idea kept wiggling in the back of his mind, always there and affecting him in ways Anders never thought he’d be dealing with, and Anders could admit it terrified him, the few times he was honest with himself.

*~OoO~*

“How is my favorite Bond villain?” Mitchell asked, voice entirely too amused as Anders finally trudged out of the bedroom.

“I hate you John Johnson.”

As he bent over to pick up his beer, Mitchell replied in a voice that was way too smug, “Sounded different last night.”

“You’re a good fuck. That doesn’t mean I love you.”

“But you do,” he replied immediately, with no doubt whatsoever and looking annoyingly satisfied as he took a swig of his beer.

“Fuck…” he looked away. “Yes.” There was no point in lying to Mitchell, not when the smug bastard would clearly catch him at it. He turned and looked back at him before blurting out, “Marry me.” Mitchell froze and looked at him with wide eyes.

“What?” he croaked out. Anders didn’t know how panicked he looked, but he felt on the verge of a panic attack, and he loathed to admit it, but it wasn’t because he regretted the proposal.

He couldn’t believe he had done that; there was no guarantee Mitchell would say yes. Moving in together was more for convenience than anything else, and the only reason they knew so much about each other was because it just came out of necessity or drunken ramblings. He took in the shocked expression on that boyish face, the comically wide brown eyes and the messy curls framing his face and took a deep breath.

“Marry me,” he repeated, a little less steady now that he wasn’t just blurting it out, but he maintained eye contact the whole time. Mitchell nodded dumbly and Anders was confused. “Was that a yes?”

“Yeah… sure,” he replied, sounding dazed.

“Yeah _sure?_ Don’t sound too thrilled.” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice considering Mitchell did say yes, but still, that was a rather lackluster reply.

“Well you kind of caught me of guard!” he replied defensively. “And aren’t you supposed to get down on one knee or something?”

“It wasn’t exactly planned!”

“Oh that makes it better!”

“What did you expect? This isn’t exactly something I ever thought I’d be doing!”

“That’s not exactly reassuring!”

“Well I’m sorry I didn’t have some elaborate candle-lit dinner planned out! Are you taking back your ‘yes’ because of that?”

“Are you talking back your proposal?”

“Of course not, you egg!”

“And I’m not taking back my ‘yes,’ you twat!”

By that point they were both standing, staring each other down until Mitchell’s face broke into a brilliant grin.

“Of course I’ll marry you, you arse.” Anders smiled in a way that was as close to dopey as he’d ever get, and Mitchell delighted in seeing that grin. “Now get over here so I can kiss you,” he added happily as he tugged him closer.

“Bossy. Is this what our married life is going to be like?”

“Shut up,” he growled, but he kissed him with a huge grin so Anders figured he wasn’t too annoyed.


End file.
